The Charge
(OOC: Basically, my attempt to write something for the Weekly thingus went horribly wrong, this ensued afterwards) “Enemy sighted, unidentified contact!” Cobra-Leader had already detected their new opponent, an unseen foe even to the rest of the UNSC. Cobra Platoon, along with several other platoons devoted to the Tersius Campaign, would be the first to face this new opponent, having already assisted their fellow footsloggers in the destruction and evisceration of several thousand Covenant warriors, the planet slowly but surely being retaken in a campaign of blood and annihilation. Corporal Miria ‘Jack’ Kattan was one of the few surviving ‘old dogs’, as the newer UNSC personnel would refer to them as, something Jack herself scoffed at. She stood alone inside the titanium behemoth that safeguarded her, protected behind several tons of steel. Jack herself stood within, a digital coffin surrounding her. Several external cameras, all linked to her neural interface, allowed her to see anything outside. Her brain was for all extents and purposes plugged into a grand mechanical beast, ready to lash out at whatever enemies faced her and her comrades with the might of a hundred and five millimeters of death. This was the true might of the M808B Scorpion, one of the deadliest weapons in the UNSC’s arsenal on the ground, and one of the few that actively made its alien foes feel an unmatched terror. “Cobra Platoon, looks like they’re charging us, enemy arty inbound, load AP and form up, looks like things are going to get nasty.” That greatly complicated the initial plan. Seeing as to how a new, unknown armored force was now beginning its own assault against the UNSC’s own armored regiment, it would seem they would have to seize the initiative against a foe that had already sought out to seize just that before them. “Alright, order’s come in, move in to engage Cobras.” Jack knew what this meant of course. Her own M808B, ‘Wild Python’, had laid itself dormant, awaiting its foes. It would soon do that no longer, its engine roaring as the beast moved, Jack feeling its every vibration as it began to move towards its targets. In the horizon, Jack could already see some glimpse of the foe in the sandy, war scorched plain before them. Several hundred ghosts would appear before them, followed shortly thereafter by many of the Remnant’s newest toys, their artistry no longer arbitrarily restricted by their leader’s whims. It was assuredly based on their tried and true Wraiths, a foe Jack had learnt to get very familiar with. With her Scorpion’s enhanced Fire Control Systems, she could almost see the individual faces on the Ghosts’ many pilots, a mix of Jiralhanae and Grunt alike. “This is Cobra-Three, good hunting Cobras, let’s rip these guys a new one.” Jack wound finally reply, Snake Eater itself roaring ferociously as she began to aim her gun, multitasking elegantly with the help of her interface. Before too long, one of the new Wraiths would be lined up, a shell ready for the slaughter. It would be the first of many tonight, the war drums singing relentlessly tonight. As the shell flew towards its target, several more would roar viciously from the maws of their machines, each one aimed at a specific target. Jack would soon see her shell impact its target. Sparks would erupt from the magenta hull, followed by flames and an explosion, its crew attempting a horrid escape from their new coffin, their bodies wreathed in flames. “Good shot, train sights on-” Cobra Leader would never get a chance to finish his statement. one of the Wraiths, armed with a sort of new plasma weapon, clearly meant for more use in direct fire roles, showed off its merits as a Wraith lit Cobra Leader aflame, the blast from its cannon at least likely killing him instantly, from what glimpse of his demise Jack could see. She would It was here that a chaotic sort of warfare would ensue. Cobra Platoon and the rest of the armored force would react without a care to their fallen, instead focused on their own survival, and the death of all their foes. Shells and plasma rang out, bullets taking down Ghost pilots and canister shells ripping their heads apart. More sabots rang out against the Wraiths and vice versa, casualties already piling up on both sides. Several Warthogs had accompanied Jack and her comrades, most armed with Gauss rifles and rocket pods, staying in behind the Scorpions to provide fire support, quite effective support at that. Rockets and Gauss ammo ripped through the endless hordes of Ghosts, their crews often eviscerated alongside their vehicles. Several voices could be heard through the comms, panic and self restraint seemingly making up two of the more common Jack would pay no heed to that, instead focusing her attention on the larger foes, another Wraith lined up in her sights. Another shell erupted from her beast’s gun, taking with it the Wraith in question, this one exploding in such a way that most of the hull was strewn across several feet. With no time to think her latest kill, Jack would shift to the next, another Wraith succumbing to her gun. This vicious cycle would continue unrelentingly as Jack advanced along the rest of her Battalion, Cobra-Two soon becoming another victim of the war before them. It was then that Jack noticed several Wraiths training their guns on her, one of them a few mere meters away, another far more distant. Without a second thought, Jack knew that she would have a very do or die moment on her hands, taking advantage of the speed with which she could move the tank and immediately throwing it into a turn, its gun maintaining position as its hull shifted towards the Wraith, her tank hurling itself at the purple opposing monster at sixty kilometers per hour. With that much weight and that much speed, it was almost inevitable that the Wraith would find itself thrown about by the much heavier machine, especially considering its propulsion mechanism. Its hull, and most importantly, its gun would find themselves thrown off balance, the secondary gunner of the wraith attempting to shoot at the Scorpion, some of the beast’s metal beginning to melt as a result. Jack paid no heed at first however, instead training her sights on the other Wraith targeting her. After another second, yet another shell fired from her now hot barrel, 105mm High Explosive Anti Tank ripping apart that Wraith’s gunner and soon enough its entire hull. Once that foe was dealt with, Jack would train her sights back on the more immediate one, her turret moving ponderously towards the firing gunner just as the hull of the wraith readjusted itself. She would deal with his gunner with a quick bout of 7.62x51mm coaxial fire, several bullets plinking off the hull, and more ripping apart the gunner’s upper body in a hail of violence. The tank itself would meet the same fate as all the others, a simple shot ripping its commander and the hull itself apart, just before its own ghastly weapon could do the same to Jack. “Cobra Platoon, this is Cobra-Three, do you read me?” Jack asked, wondering whether her comrades had survived the brutal and unending warfare of the day. If she recieved any responses, she did not hear them, as several dozen ghosts now rushed towards her and her alone, prompting a quick switch to canister shells. She could sense their plasma already striking the hull of her beast, their wicked whines slamming against the titanium, melting small amounts of it with each pull of the trigger. Jack would soon pull the trigger of her own gun, what could only be described as oversized buckshot flying towards the ghosts. Regardless of where it struck, it had very quickly ripped apart either the machines or their riders, the latter in the violent evisceration of mechanical internals, the former in a brutal orgy of alien blood. Those that weren’t wiped out immediately were met with more coaxial fire, warding the few survivors off into a hasty retreat. It would seem their foe would finally be cowed, as whatever surviving forces remained for the Covenant to command were beginning to flee, their offensive quickly turning into a rout. Jack, now thirsty for more violence along the rest of the force, would begin pursuing, their threads running over any wreck left behind by the enemy, and in some cases surviving pilots of the now defeated Covenant forces. For Jack, it was a combination of her current combat high, as well as her general zeal in the art of war, that drove her to chase her enemy to oblivion. As her Scorpion advanced, her sting failed to relent, firing shots at any Ghost or Wraith attempting to flee, a hopeless endeavour regardless now that the UNSC had maintained air superiority. That same superiority would be the final nail in the defeated aliens’ coffin. Before the Scorpions could annihilate the routed forces, several Pelicans, each armed specifically in an anti-armor configuration, would swoop to finish them off. Several explosions and rockets would ensue, finishing off the survivors in a violent finale, flames and wrecks now polluting the desert sands. Jack herself had finally realized that her own battle had ended, a quick sweep revealing that not only had they completely wiped out their foes, they had wiped out none other than the last surviving Covenant forces on the planet. It was with that final battle that Jack would erupt from her metal Coffin, opening the hatch to reveal a bright and unfriendly sun, forcing her to shield her eyes. She took a quick look outside, the blinding desert vicious in its heat and dust, smoke and mirage making for an extremely grizzly scene. “Cobra-Three, it’s Cobra-Five, looks like you and I are the only ones who made it out.” A voice rang out over the comms, bringing a small sigh to the woman’s voice. “Looks like our home’s free, Jack.” “Yeah, it is. . .” Jack would reply, pulling out a sweet william’s cigar, sitting herself atop her charred, war weary beast. “Welcome home Adam, after all these years, I’m finally going to see this place free of war. . .” Category:Short stories